


Sweet the Sting

by misura



Category: Strike Back
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, Explicit Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4080124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well," Scott said. "I mean, let's face it, you're not exactly a Casanova or anything."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet the Sting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladydey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydey/gifts).



The mission briefing went swimmingly right until the moment they got to the mission.

"What, all those recent budget cuts mean we can't afford to shoot terrorists anymore?" Scott asked, which Michael felt was not a question void of merit. "Now we gotta go and _seduce_ them? Seriously, what the fuck?"

Michael cleared his throat. "With all due respect, sir, I would - "

"And why _him_ , huh?" Scott went on. "Anyone's gonna go out there and pick up some terrorist ass, it ought to be me."

Michael considered letting it go. Let Scott be Scott. For all of five seconds. "Why? Because you're just so irresistible to the opposite sex?"

"Hey," Scott said. "I've got game, all right? More game than anyone else in the room. So, yeah. I think that's a pretty good reason. Assuming you want for the mission to, you know, actually be successful."

Things did not go uphill from there.

 

And now here they were - or rather, here Michael was, getting dressed, and there Scott was, keeping a respectable distance so as not to seem to hover.

Somewhat of a doomed effort, really. True, Scott managed a good slouch and he'd picked a suitably comfortable chair to do it in, but the tension in his body utterly gave him away.

"For the record, I think you're being incredibly childish about this," Michael said, critically studying himself in the full length mirror.

"Hey." Scott raised his hands. "I need someone to watch my back, you're it. I mean, I fucking love you, man, all right? You're my best friend. But this? Come on."

"You think I am incapable of seducing a woman?"

"Well," Scott said. "Yeah. I mean, let's face it, you're not exactly a Casanova or anything."

"Oh, and you are?"

Scott shrugged. "Pretty much. Sure, some of it's just looks, but part of it's technique, too, you know? Practice. That sort of thing."

"Point taken. So what you're saying is: you've done quite a bit of picking up women, and I should profit from your rich experience. All right, fair enough. I'm listening."

"Uh," Scott said. "I'm not sure that's _quite_ what I was saying."

Michael sighed. "Scott. I'm the one who's been assigned to this mission. Ergo, I'm the one who's going to be executing this mission. Now, can you please stop pouting like a little kid and get with the program? Again, I'd welcome your advice. But if all you're going to do is complain, I'd as soon you left."

"Fine. Fine. All right, first tip: lose the fucking shirt."

Michael arched an eyebrow at his own reflection. "I should go in shirtless?"

Scott chuckled, his body finally relaxing, even if it was only by a fraction. "Hey, I've seen you shirtless. At least that'd get them looking - that's half the battle won already."

_You look at me when I'm shirtless?_ Pointless to ask the question out loud, of course; they were soldiers, and partners besides. By now, they'd seen each other shirtless, pantsless and every other variation thereof.

"I was just thinking, maybe something a bit more casual, yeah?" Scott said. "You're posing as someone looking to have some fun, not someone on their way to a fucking business meeting."

"I could undo the top button."

Scott scowled. "Lose the fucking shirt, Mike. C'mon, let me take a look at what else you've got."

Michael moved aside as Scott knelt down and started rummaging about in Michael's bag. He'd packed light - a couple of spare uniforms, a few casual outfits for blending in ... he wasn't Scott, after all.

_Not that Scott seems to need to dress up in order to have women throwing themselves at him._

"What's the second?"

"Huh?" Scott blinked up at him.

"You said losing the shirt was your first bit of advice. What's the second?"

Scott considered. _Good to know he's actually thought about this in advance._ "Keep an eye on your drink. Theirs, too."

"All right," Michael said. Pointing out that was basic common sense seemed a bit unkind, not to mention unlikely to be constructive. "Third?"

"Look, what are you even going to say? Pretend I'm your mark - I'm sitting here on my fucking knees, right in front of you. What do you say to me?"

Michael stared down. _Please move back a bit so that I can stop thinking about you giving me a fucking blowjob?_ Better keep that one to himself. "Hi. I don't think I've seen you before. Do you come here often?"

Scott blinked up at him. "Are you fucking serious? A guy, on his knees, in front of you, and _that's_ your conversation opener?"

"I think we can assume the target I will, in fact, be trying to seduce will not be encountered kneeling in front of me. Also, it will probably be a she."

"That's not the point." Scott angrily shook his head. "You gotta be ready to improvise. To make a connection, no matter how weird or uncomfortable things are."

_Which of those two adjectives would apply to the current situation, then?_

"Well, how about a demonstration? Assume our situations were reversed: what would you say?"

"Hi there. Anyone ever tell you that mouth of yours is fucking beautiful?" Scott said promptly. "And then maybe I'd joke about you giving me a blowjob - all in good fun, you know. Don't be a creeper, that's tip number five."

"Four," Michael said absently. "And if you don't mind, I think I'll steer clear of the topic of blowjobs."

"Yeah, that's probably good. It takes a certain kind of confidence to pull that one off."

_A certain level of confidence. Right._ "Have you seriously ever used that line on anyone? Without them attempting to cause you some form of physical harm?"

"Hey." Scott grinned up at him. "You win some, you lose some. But if you're not gonna play the game, you're not even in the running, right?"

"Mixing your metaphors a bit there."

"Look," Scott said. "I can either get up right now and go get you a shirt that's actually halfway decent and doesn't absolutely scream 'boring', or I can stay right where I am and give you the best fucking blowjob anyone's ever given you in your life. Not that I expect that'll be saying much, mind."

_I expect you'd be right._ "If that was a joke, I'm afraid I don't see the humor."

"Wasn't a joke," Scott said. "Although, you know, if you're going to be trying to kick my teeth in or something, I'd appreciate a bit of a heads up."

_What if I said yes? Called his bluff - if it is a bluff._ "Look," Michael said. "Scott."

Scott got to his feet in one fluid movement. "Tip number five, buddy. If you don't know how to hit on them, just leave it to _them_ to make the first move."

"You fuck." Michael's knees felt a little weak. He hoped it didn't show.

"Hey, nothing like a hands-on demonstration," Scott said. "I'll go look for that shirt now, shall I?"

"Look for it after," Michael said. "Unless you were joking after all, in which case: consider this your fair warning that I _will_ try to hurt you."

"Emphasis on 'try', of course." Scott's grin made Michael wonder for a brief moment just who was seducing who here. _Then again, does it matter?_ "But naw, don't worry, Mike. I never joke about that sort of stuff - well, not to people I like, anyway."

"Be still, my wildly beating heart."

"Last tip: can the sarcasm. I mean, personally, it just makes me want to hear you beg me for more, longer, harder, but I'm kind of a unique individual that way. Not everyone's got my sense of humor."

"Yes," Michael said, pulling him closer and then lower. "Thank God for the smaller mercies, huh?"


End file.
